When Heroes Are Mortal
by Emrys MK
Summary: It is just another day. Harry meets Ron in Hogsmeade; they talk and eat, and it is the last time either one will see the other alive. Because it was originally written in 2006, the events do not reflect what happened in DH.


**Title**: When Heroes Are Mortal (repost)  
**Author**: Sev1970/MK Malfoy  
**Date Written**: Oct. 22-30, 2006, edited 7-16-2008  
**Words**: 5,903  
**Characters**: Gen fic. Harry, Ron, Severus  
**Summary**: It is just another day. Harry meets Ron in Hogsmeade; they talk and eat, and it is the last time either one will see the other alive. Because it was originally written in 2006, the events do not reflect what happened in DH.  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Warnings**: Character death - very sad!  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing Harry Potter related. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc., Warner Bros., and any other entities involved.

~*~

It was cold, dreary and windy, which was normal in Scotland, but conditions were rapidly deteriorating, and, as such, Harry decided to shorten the lesson so the students would be able return to Hogsmeade and the surrounding villages before the storm blew in. Fortunately, all of the parents had arrived early to watch the practice.

Harry glanced towards the threatening clouds above: the sky looked ominous. Rain would more than likely begin to fall at any moment. He gave the only remaining student in the air the signal to descend, then gripped his broom tightly and gave it a slight downwards tug towards the ground, which was not as easy as it usually was because roaring wind was doing its best to thwart his efforts.

After he landed and dismounted, Harry turned around as his student landed beside him. "Well done, Percy, well done. I'd say three or four more lessons and you should be ready to begin second levels." Harry retrieved a piece of parchment from the ground that the wind threatened to carry away and, after penning a few words, looked up and grinned. "It's all set; your flying practical will be next Monday." Harry watched with amusement as Percy high-fived one of his friends.

Harry turned to the remainder of his students. "Because of the weather I am dismissing you early. Don't forget to get your parents to sign the consent form for our field trip on Friday. If you don't wish to attend or if you fail to get your form to me by the end of Thursday's lesson, you'll be staying here with Mr Ron," Harry said, knowing he would more than likely receive all of the consent forms. He was all too aware of what it was like not to be able to do something because of not having his consent form for Hogsmeade weekends signed; it had been no fun watching his friends leaving for a day of fun in Hogsmeade when he had to stay at Hogwarts. He received a few nods as his young charges gathered their belongings and then left with their parents. They looked so happy and innocent. Harry grinned.

Ten years had passed since the day Voldemort finally met his end. If they chose to do so, it would be easy for the students to pretend there had never been a Voldemort…or Death Eaters, but Harry knew more than any other just how corporeal the monster had been, at least in the end, when the Horcruxes had been destroyed.

Harry had started the Quidditch league for students aged five to eleven when Hogwarts reopened, and it was one of his greatest joys. The sparkle in his students' eyes when they learned how to do difficult maneuvers always brought a smile to his face.

After Harry removed his gloves and shoved them into his bag, he put on his cloak and looked over his shoulder. "You ready, Percy?"

"Yes, sir. Where's Uncle Ron? He wasn't at practice."

Harry shook his head and grabbed the boy's broom, which was currently dragging behind him on the ground. "I don't think your mum and dad would be happy with you if you returned with your new Comet 2010 filled with brambles. This is a nice broom; you need to take better care of it."

"Yes, sir."

"Your uncle had an appointment this afternoon, but he's going to meet us at the Three Broomsticks."

"Okay, oh, there's Ian. Can I go talk to him? I won't be long. I need to tell him something; it's really, really important."

Harry watched as Percy looked at him with a look of pleading that no one could mistake for anything else, and nodded, but gave a brief glance towards the now rumbling sky that lit up the surrounding area every few seconds. "Ten minutes, okay? Then I expect you in the Three Broomsticks, but if it starts raining, come inside immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Percy ran ahead, and it wasn't long before the two boys were talking and laughing. Watching the two boys talking made Harry a bit wistful for a time long ago past. He was happy these children were being allowed to live a peaceful and innocent existence; it was how it should be, but it was something Harry had never been allowed to experience. Even now, Harry still felt isolated from the rest of the world and, even as he knew he did this to himself, it was difficult letting go of the past.

His friends were getting married and were having children. Percy was Bill and Fleur's middle child, and Harry was his godfather. The boy brought so much joy to Harry; his zeal for life and his blatant disregard for the rules reminded Harry of him and Ron when they had been students.

As He entered the Three Broomsticks, which was more crowded than usual due to the inclement weather, he handed the two brooms to the young woman behind the counter before turning and getting Ron's attention. When Ron raised two fingers, Harry nodded and queued to order. Five minutes later, fish, chips and Butterbeers in hand, he plopped into the seat across from his best mate. "Nothing like Quidditch practice to make me hungry. How was Hermione's appointment?"

"It went good; she and the baby are fine. She needs to rest and not become stressed. Mum has been staying with us while Dad is out of the country, so that helps."

"Yeah, left to her own devices, Hermione would be running around as usual," Harry said, concern in his voice. "I hope Molly makes her stay in bed."

"Yeah, she will. Where's Percy?" Ron asked as he reached across the table and grabbed his food.

"He's talking to Ian; I told him to meet us here in ten minutes. Oh, while I'm thinking about it, Bill asked me this morning how Percy was doing in Quidditch, but I was in a hurry, so we didn't get to finish our chat. When you take Percy home, tell Fleur he's doing fine; he loves being up in the air. He takes his level ones next Monday."

Ron nodded. "I think we'll have another Seeker in the family in a few years. He reminds me of you."

"Yeah, MgGonagall says the same thing, but she says he'll probably be a bit bigger than I was since he has already had quite the growth-spurt; it's hard to believe I was allowed to be on the team. I was so little."

"You? Harry Potter? There has always been an exception for you," Ron said as he smirked. "So what if you were dwarfed by everyone else, you did manage to catch the Snitch, instead of that oaf from Slytherin."

"Yeah well, it got me to this point, so I can't complain. Seriously though, Percy has quite the lineage; he'll be good. He takes after his brother and uncle. I'm looking forward to teaching Rowan when he's old enough. It's amazing how Bill's kids are so like Charlie. I'm guessing Charlie won't be contributing to the Weasley Quidditch lineage anytime soon."

Ron laughed as he took a swig of Butterbeer and popped a chip into his mouth. "Not unless he settles down. I think he likes being able to do as he pleases, not so far removed from what you do. Speaking of, I know a young witch who has her eye on you; she has for some time now," Ron finished, winking.

Harry glared at the change of subject. "When Charlie meets the right witch, he'll settle down, and you know I like Ginny. She's the one who broke it off last time, not me. I'm just giving her space like she wanted. I don't think I'm what she wants, so there's not much to do about that now, is there?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Gin, she's a stubborn one. You know, I've heard rumours about you being interested in someone else though."

Harry glared at the questioning look on Ron's face. "Weren't we discussing Percy?"

"From the look you're giving me, it would seem I'm spot on. You're going to tell me who it is, you know you want to. Okay, okay, back to Percy: He's a good student, just as Charles is, and he's a bloody brilliant little Quidditch player; I'm glad he's getting to learn from you. You know you have to stay around so you're still teaching when our son is old enough to enter your lessons."

"I'll be here," Harry said as he glanced out the window at his students. Teaching his best mate's son how to fly would be no different from teaching his godsons to fly, but the thought of a little Ron and Hermione … Harry couldn't wait to teach that little one.

"Good to hear it. The kids, they all love you, Harry. I wish the kids listened to me as they do you, but I guess it doesn't help that I teach the most boring subject ever. It is bloody near impossible to make History of Magic interesting, you know? It's quite maddening when the students ignore you. Sure, it was fun when you and I ignored Binns - he _was_ boring. Everyone thought so. I may not be you, but I am interesting … well, aren't I?"

"It's not like I teach the most fascinating subject, Ron. Defense Against the Dark Arts - there's nothing remotely interesting about that with these kids; the only reason they pay attention is because of who I am and, believe me, that's no fun. I've sat in on your lessons before. Believe me, you're a good teacher and, hey, you were my best mate when we were students, and you still are; that' has to count for something," Harry said cheekily as he put a chip in his mouth.

"Yeah, maybe. It's just not fun anymore, mate. I've been talking to Hermione about it and if it doesn't get any better, this might be my last term. Dad has been asking me to join the Ministry and, as much as I've tried staying away from doing that, it sure does beat dealing with snot-nosed kids all day," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. He stuffed a large piece of fish into his mouth and smacked as he took a gulp of Butterbeer. He was about to speak again, but stopped when Harry glared.

Harry furrowed a brow and shook his head. "You really should learn how to slow down. How can you talk with all that in your mouth? You eat like a damned Hippogriff, you know that? And the students aren't so bad. You're beginning to sound like Snape."

"And you're beginning to look like him with those glares and smirk you've got going. But, hey, if it works. So tell me wise one, how do you do it?"

"How do I do what, glare like Snape?" Harry replied as he took a sip of Butterbeer and glanced out the window, watching a few of his students playing. Returning his attention to Ron, he raised a brow.

"Yeah, cause I so want to learn how to do that, mate," Ron said as he stuffed another chip into his mouth. "How do you get on with them so well … the students? They adore you; it's a bit sickening if you ask me," chided Ron.

Harry swallowed the bite he had just taken and laughed. "Really, Ron, has it been so long since I defeated old Tom? I am Harry Potter, the hero of the wizarding world, or have you forgotten?" Harry said, mockingly. It was the antithesis of who he was or wanted to be, but it was what everyone else thought, so on occasion he used it to his advantage and, as he was doing now, he sometimes enjoyed toying with Ron. Harry knew Ron was aware how much he hated the attention.

Ron finished chewing his food, took another swig of his drink and finally swallowed the mouthful, which he proved to Harry by opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. "Yeah, but most of the students who fawn over you were too young to remember, or weren't around then. Yeah, yeah, I know it's in all the history books, but Snape was just as much a hero as you were, and he has the Order of Merlin just as you do, AND he is no longer as much of a git as he was when we were students. He's respected, but you're genuinely loved by those kids."

Harry set down the chip he had picked up (he had lost his appetite upon seeing Ron's tongue) and shrugged his shoulders. As he was about to respond, he watched as the door opened and Percy walked in. Calling out the boy's name, Harry motioned the middle Weasley son over to their table, then lifted the boy onto his lap and told him he could eat the fish and chips if he wanted to.

"Face it, Harry, you're just good with kids. Hey, Percy, how are the flying lessons coming?"

"Hi, Uncle Ron. They're okay, I guess. Since Mum and Dad bought me my new broom, it isn't as easy, but Mr Harry says it won't take long for me to learn how to steer it the right way. Daddy's been helping me, so I hope to get better soon."

Ron looked at Harry and smirked before replying to his nephew. "Perhaps you can get your dad to ask Uncle Charlie to help you. I think he could perhaps help you a mite bit more than your dad."

"Oh, that would be fun. He could teach me some tricks."

Harry turned his godson's face to look at his. "What did Mr Harry tell your group today, Percy?"

The five-year-old sighed as he squirmed out of Harry's lap, food in hand, and went to sit with his uncle. "You said we were not to do anything other than fly in a straight line unless you were with us, but that is boring! When can I do more, Mr Harry? Charles gets to do more funner things," the sullen-looking child finished, sticking out his bottom lip.

Harry looked at Ron and tried to hide his laugh from Percy. "Oh, no, sir, not the lip. Mr Harry is immune to the lip. As you well know, I said that no one is to do anything more than what you have been doing until you are ready, and not a moment sooner, young man. I will be the one to determine when that is. Now, if your Uncle Charlie is with you, I trust his judgment and you can do whatever he allows, but that is the only exception. And, if you remember, you are taking your practical next week. Don't be so quick to grow up, Perce. Your brother was once your age and he was restricted to the same rules as you are now."

"You listen to Mr Harry. He knows what he's talking about, Percy, and you need to use correct English. Your mum would cry if she heard you saying _more __funner_ and, for her, who speaks English as a second language, that is saying something."

"Yes, Uncle Ron."

Harry retrieved his wand, checked the time, then stood and pushed the chair in as he waved his wand over his remaining food, causing it to disappear. "Sorry, but I've got to go. I'm meeting Snape in ten minutes. I'll come by and see you and Hermione when I get in. Percy, tell your mum and dad I said hi, okay?"

"Okay, Mr Harry. When you see Charles will you tell him I am going to get to start flying higher next week?"

"Yes, that I can do. I'm not sure I'll see him this evening, but I will see him tomorrow at Quidditch practice. He'll be so proud of you. You'll be able to teach Rowan in a few years," Harry finished, ruffling his godson's hair.

"Yes, that will be great fun," the boy said, his little eyes lighting up at the thought as he climbed into the chair Harry had vacated.

Harry laughed when the boy stood in the chair and reached across the table for a piece of fish. Looking back to Ron, Harry sighed. "I better get going. Snape doesn't take too well to tardiness."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "And just why are you going to see him?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Harry rolled his eyes at the horrified look Ron gave him. "You should see your face. Sorry to disappoint, but no, get your mind out of the gutter. He finally agreed to teach me how to brew Remus's Wolfsbane. I still can't believe he isn't going to be here next term."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, Hogwarts without Snape is going to be…_lovely_."

"Yeah, I'm sure the students won't be too sad to see him go. He might be more approachable now, but he's still lacking in people skills. It's a shame; he has all that knowledge but he just can't seem to get it across without being a git."

"Yeah, well, he'll be someone else's git and I couldn't be happier."

Harry laughed and couldn't help the snort that escaped as he retrieved his broom then turned around to look at Ron. His best mate had a temper, got jealous entirely too easily and had the manners of a … well, he had no manners, but he was Ron and Harry couldn't imagine him any other way. "Percy's broom is behind the counter, don't forget it."

"Okay. I would say have fun, but …"

"Bye, Ron," said Harry as he looked outside and sighed; he didn't feel like going out with the weather as it was, but he had no choice. "Tell Hermione I hope she's feeling better."

Ron nodded as he watched his best mate leave.

~*~

Ron awoke when he heard someone walking around. He hurriedly donned his dressing gown and walked out into the sitting room "Mum, what are you doing up?"

~*~

Ron sat in the staff room, his face ghost-white. He had heard the _good mornings_ and the _Hi, Professor __Weasleys_, but he hadn't acknowledged either. He finally responded when he felt someone grasp his shoulder.

"Mr Weasley, perhaps I should do this."

Ron forced himself to meet the eyes of Professor Flitwick and shook his head. "Thanks, but I'll do it."

"I am available if you need me, Ronald."

Ron nodded. "Thanks, Professor." He watched as his former professor opened the door and began walking down the corridor. Ron stood and began to walk out the door, but stopped. He couldn't do this. Hand grasping the door, he knelt and allowed the tears to fall as his free hand went up to join the other.

This couldn't possibly be happening.

Someone touched his shoulder. Looking up, he was shocked to see Snape looking down at him, something akin to concern on his face.

"Flitwick asked me to check on you. Are you certain you want to speak to Charles? Professor McGonagall will be addressing the students at breakfast."

Ron nodded defiantly as he stood. "He's my nephew and you know how close … you know …" Ron cleared his throat and wiped his eyes as he stared at Snape. More tears threatened to fall.

"Very well." Severus led Ron up to Gryffindor Tower and he had one of the older boys find Charles.

"Hi Uncle Ron, Professor Snape. Is everything alright?"

~*~

Ron entered the Great Hall and the barrage of sound assaulted his ears in a way it had never done before. He stopped and turned so he faced the student tables. His eyes sought out the places he, Hermione and Harry had eaten their meals while students. Now there sat in those places three first years, one of which was Charles Weasley, Ron's oldest nephew, Harry's oldest godson, and, by far, Harry's favorite student. The boy was eating, his head lowered, his face ashen. Ron shook his head, turned around and approached his seat. His eyes sought out the empty seat next to his. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

This could not be happening.

Ron sat down. He heard other staff members speak to him and he nodded, but he had no idea what they were saying. When the food arrived he filled his plate with whatever was in front of him and absently shoveled it into his mouth as he stared at the empty place beside him.

This could not be happening.

When he heard Minerva clear her throat, he set down his fork and turned his head towards the Headmistress.

"May I have your attention, everyone?"

Ron noticed how frail the woman looked. Her voice and her hands were shaking almost uncontrollably.

"Children, I don't know how to tell you this, but I am afraid there has been a terrible accident, one that unfortunately resulted in the death of one of your professors …"

Ron watched as hundreds of eyes traveled directly to Harry's spot at the Head table.

"…It saddens me greatly to have to inform you all that Professor Potter died last night. I would have preferred not to divulge the details, but as many of you will no doubt speculate and hear outrageous stories from others, I will tell you that Professor Potter was flying back to Hogwarts late last evening and he was thrown off his broomstick. It is likely the wind caused the accident. I was outdoors late last night and I can attest to the fact that it was raining and was terribly windy because of the storm that blew through."

Ron didn't hear the remainder of Minerva's speech. He heard gasps and even saw a few girls with teary faces, but all he could think about was the day before when Harry and he had been laughing and eating fish and chips at the Three Broomsticks. It had been such an ordinary meeting, just as every other day before it. Only it wasn't because it was the last time Ron had, or ever would, see his best mate alive.

Minerva was still speaking, but Ron couldn't stay; he needed to leave.

This couldn't possibly be happening.

He stood abruptly and looked, for the first time since he had sat down, at the man seated to his left. Snape's eyes, as black as the blasted robes he wore, shimmered with tears. Ron frowned and shook his head at his former professor and mouthed _no_ then he left in an almost run. He had a lesson to teach, but he needed a few moments to compose himself. Approaching his rooms, he jerked open the door and slammed it behind him.

"Ron? Is that you?"

"Hey, Hermione. Yeah, it's me. How are you feeling?" Before he had finished the sentence, she entered the sitting room, her face marked with tear streaks.

"We're okay. Your mum will be back before lunch. How did the students react?"

Ron looked towards the ceiling and shook his head.

This couldn't possibly be happening.

"I think most everyone was in shock, but I left before Minerva finished speaking. Listening to Snape trying to control his emotions was making me crazy, so I left."

Hermione approached Ron and lay her head on his shoulder. "I can't believe he's really gone. How are we going to get through this?"

"I don't know, I just don't know." Ron placed a hand over Hermione's abdomen and rubbed it, lovingly. "Little Harry, he'll help. You know how excited Harry was when we told him the baby was going to be a boy. He was so thrilled with the prospect of being his godfather. He's been such a good godfather to Percy, Charles and Rowan."

"Yeah, that he has. So, why was Snape so upset?"

Ron sighed as Hermione lifted her head and backed away. "Harry and Snape had gone into Hogsmeade last night and, for some reason, Harry stayed when Snape decided to come back. When he hadn't shown up or fire-called Snape, Snape got worried and went out to look for him. He was the one who found Harry."

"Poor Severus. I was wondering why Harry would have been out flying so late," Hermione said as she smoothed out her husband's robes.

"Yeah, he shouldn't have been out; the weather was bad. Why would he deliberately put himself in such a situation? He knows how dangerous it is to fly in those conditions, Hermione, so why? Why?"

"I don't know, Ron, but we both know he wouldn't have put himself in such a situation if he thought it was a real danger. Well, you have a lesson in ten minutes; you should get going."

Ron sighed as he wiped away his wife's tears. "Yeah."

~*~

Ron sat behind the desk in his office and stared ahead at the window, through which he could see and hear the stormy weather that had caused this nightmare. Pointing his wand, he closed the curtains and placed a Silencing Charm around the window - he didn't want to hear the wind, rain and thunder, and he certainly didn't want to see the lightning. When he heard a knock on his door, he asked who it was.

"It's Charles, Uncle Ron, are you busy?"

Ron opened the door with his wand and wasn't surprised to see that his nephew looked as if he had seen a ghost. Ron doubted he looked any better. "Shouldn't you be in Charms?"

"Yes, sir, but Professor Flitwick sent me to see you; I wasn't able to concentrate. May I stay in here until my next lesson?"

Ron could only nod, and he watched as his nephew sat across from him. Handing the boy a tin of biscuits, Ron sat back in his chair, sighing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uncle Ron, Cedric said Harry's godfather was murdered in front of him when he was fifteen. It's not fair that he lost his godfather, and it's not fair that I've lost mine."

Ron nodded. "Nope, life is definitely not fair, Charles." After a few seconds, he continued. "Harry was my best mate, and he was so proud of you, Percy and Rowan. He was going to tell you today that Percy is going to begin second levels next week, or he was. I guess that'll be put on hold for a while. Percy wanted you to know; he was so happy."

"I knew he was getting close. Well, I guess we won't be going on the field trip now. Harry had asked if I could go to help with the younger kids."

Ron opened his mouth to tell Charles to use the proper address for a professor, but thought better of it. His best mate was - had been - Harry to Charles. "How are the other students reacting?"

"No one other than Cedric will talk to me; I think they're afraid I might lose it or something. Professor Tonks came in and asked me if I wanted to talk to her about it, but there's nothing to say. Cedric and I tried paying attention, really we did, Uncle Ron, but, instead, we talked about Harry. The girls were all crying; it's so unfair. I can't believe he's gone. I asked the Headmistress if I could owl Percy, but she wouldn't let me; she said Dad and Mum had already told him and Rowan. I wish I could go home. I don't want to be here, Uncle Ron. I want to see my mum."

Ron stared at his nephew for a few seconds then nodded. "Then you shall. This is breaking several rules, but Harry and I broke more than a few rules while we were at Hogwarts, so you're going home; staying here will do you no good. I'll inform Professor McGonagall that you'll not be returning until tomorrow morning for breakfast." Ron stood and approached the fire.

~*~

Ron stepped into the back room of the hospital wing. Within the hour there would be throngs of people in the Great Hall paying their last respects and Ron wanted to see Harry one last time before everyone else invaded their space. Harry hated people gawking at him. Ron wished he could prevent them from doing so today.

He slowly approached the bed Harry was lying on and shakily extended a trembling hand and touched the small, cold, motionless fingers. Harry looked so peaceful, as if he were asleep. "I can't believe you're never going to talk to me again. Gah, Harry, Hermione and me, we're going to miss you so much. We've decided to name the baby Harry." Ron wiped the tears away roughly and shook his head. This was not happening. "You're supposed to be here. Why can't I just wake up and find out this has been a bad dream? This is so unfair, Harry, so unfair."

Ron looked up when he heard the door open, and sighed as Snape walked in and approached him and Harry. He hadn't thought he could feel any worse than he did, but seeing the look on Snape's face completely undid him. Ron wished he could say something, but he supposed there was nothing to say. "So unfair."

~*~

Because of the relentless rain that had assaulted Hogsmeade and the other surrounding villages over the past few days, Harry's funeral was held in the Great Hall. Ron, seated beside Hermione, their hands clasped, both their faces streaked with tears, looked around at all of the people - more people than he had ever seen in the large hall - and wished he could somehow find a Time-Turner. There was so much he hadn't said … so many things. Harry had been his best mate and Ron loved him, but when had he ever told him that? Never that he could remember. It wasn't something blokes went around saying, but it was the truth and now Harry would never know how he felt. Ron looked back and watched as his best friend was being carried down the middle of the aisle, dressed in his new robes he had bought the last time he and Ron had been to Diagon Alley.

His best mate wasn't ever going to wake up; he was dead. It was a realisation Ron wasn't ready to accept.

Harry was being carried by Argus Filch, and Ron had never seen the man so distraught. When Harry's body passed, Ron heard a small mewing sound and looked down - Mrs Norris was following Filch, meowing. It wasn't quite the same as Fawkes' lament to Dumbledore, but Ron supposed it was fitting.

~*~

Ron excused himself and stepped outside. It was still raining, but it was fitting, and Ron didn't care. Looking towards the sky, he mouthed _why_? To whom, he didn't know. Just as he turned to go back in, he heard a noise and turned around and watched the carriages approaching to take the throngs of people away from Hogwarts. He watched, mesmerized. Harry had seen them…the Thestrals. He had seen death. Ron felt as if he should be able to see them now; he hadn't seen Harry die, but he might as well have - he had never felt this empty. If seeing someone die in front of your eyes was worse than this …

He began walking and didn't stop until he was standing on the Quidditch pitch, rain pouring, drenching him. Sitting on the ground, Ron put his head in his hands and allowed himself to cry as hard and loud as he needed to. For four days he had been walking around in a fog. It was difficult to remember how things had been before his mum had told him.

_"There's been an accident, Ron."_

_"Is it dad?"_

_"No, love, it's Harry. __He …" _

_"He what, Mum?"_

_"__Oh, Ron, he's gone. Our Harry is dead…."_

His world had been forever changed in those few seconds. He could still hear his mum crying, and he vividly recalled his valiant effort not to do the same. He had tried so hard, but when she had hugged him, it had been too much.

Now the tears were coming in torrents, and Ron wasn't sure he'd ever be able to stop. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Ron allowed himself to be led back inside, allowed himself to be led to his rooms, and allowed himself to be changed into dry clothes. He knew there were others around him, but how many or who they were, Ron knew not, and he found he didn't care. His best friend had died and he needed to grieve. He was thankful no one was asking him not to.

~*~

Ron's next clear memory was of him and Snape sitting in the dungeons. The older man was staring at him, no readable expression on his face. Ron wasn't sure how long he had been there or what if anything had been said.

"Were you and Harry together?" Ron blurted out. He had to know. Snape shook his head, nothing changing on his face.

"Mr Weasley, is it beyond your capacity to understand how finding a colleague dead might distress me? Despite what you or anyone else thinks, Mr Potter and I did not loathe one another. His infernal refusal to cease imposing upon me was frustrating, yes, however, I was becoming accustomed to his company; it was tolerable."

Ron nodded. "Him being in Hogsmeade with you is proof enough of that. I can't believe he's gone. He never did anything bad to anyone, so why him? It just doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't, Ron, but life is rarely fair; I've known this for quite a while now. I am sorry you had to find this fact out in such a harsh manner."

Ron inclined his head as he stood and walked towards the door. "I'm going to go. Thanks for the talk." Not waiting for a response, he left and headed towards his room but was stopped by Cedric Wood, who looked upset.

"How may I help you, Cedric?"

"Um, well erm my dad gave me this picture of you and Mr Potter from when you played Quidditch together. I was wondering if you wanted it. My dad has another copy."

Ron was upset enough as it was; he didn't need to be looking at old pictures, remembering happier times. He was about to shake his head when he thought about Snape. Ron had no idea if Harry and their former professor had been friends, more, or what, but he did know that the man was suffering, and maybe …

"I think I would very much like to have this if you are certain it is okay."

"Yes, please take it, Professor Weasley."

After a few other words, Ron, picture in hand, turned and retraced his steps until he was standing outside Snape's rooms. He didn't want to interrupt the man again so he merely charmed the picture and placed it by the door so that when Severus opened it, the picture would levitate itself inside.

Ron then returned to his rooms. Harry was gone, and that was a hurt which would never go away, but Hermione and baby Harry were waiting for him and Ron knew there was nowhere else he would rather be.

~*~

The End


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